


I Won't Forget, Mr. Sherwood

by Catherine_Easton



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e07 Orison, F/M, NC-17, Prequel, Scully POV, The X-Files Fandom, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine_Easton/pseuds/Catherine_Easton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orison prequel/canon fic. In the episode, Scully briefly mentioned her Sunday school teacher called her 'Scout' and was murdered in San Diego when she was 13. Here are a few flashbacks about who that teacher was and the role he played in helping Scully reconcile killing Pfaster. You will enjoy this fic more if you have either seen Orison recently or remember it fairly well. </p><p>Rated NC-17 for graphic (M/S) sex and violent imagery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scout

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no claim to The X-Files and am making no money from this. No copyright infringement intended. Excerpts/quotes from "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee, "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret" by Judy Blume, "Natural Woman" performed by Aretha Franklin, and "Don't Look Any Further" performed by Dennis Edwards used without permission. No copyright infringement intended. 
> 
> Strong NC-17 for sexual content and some violence. If you are underage, please move on. 
> 
> The timeline here does bounce around a bit, but I think you can follow it. 
> 
> In my world, Scully and Mulder were already together sexually in "Orison." At the time, it is what I thought, so I am sticking to my guns. 
> 
> I was always intrigued by the backstory Scully mentioned and loved the way Gillian Anderson delivered her lines in the scene where she told Mulder about the murder of her Sunday school teacher. I wanted more - so I wrote more.

Chapter 1. Scout

Eleven-year-old Dana Scully was in pain. Pinned to the ground by an overweight and freakishly strong fellow redhead, she felt her forehead slamming into the dirt. Repeatedly. She had the sneaking suspicion that she would not be popular at this particular posting. Two other girls cheered on the hearty flame-haired girl, but it wasn’t necessary; the girl was clearly inspired – and determined.

As for the victim Dana was suffering for -- the original target of their senseless bullying –- well, she had long split the scene.

“Four eyes, four eyes!” the girls had taunted the bespectacled girl.

“And the way she sneezes, ‘Achooey, ooey-ooo!’” chimed in a raven-haired adolescent with uncomfortable-looking acne. “Let’s put her face in the dirt and hear those lovely sneezes!”

“Let her go,” Dana demanded. “This is fair? Three against one?”

“Butt out, New Girl,” snarled Bad Skin.

… and now here she was. Eating the dirt meant for Glasses Girl, who immediately sprinted to high ground when the focus transferred to Dana. Where the hell were Billy, Missy and Charlie?

Surely they were out of class by now and could rescue her from these idiots. And here she thought San Diego would be a city worldly enough to accept her military family and be excited for some new blood in the schoolyard. Apparently they were excited for new blood – just not in the way she’d hoped.

The third girl, who habitually flipped her medium-length Farrah Fawcett ash-blonde hair with her palm, had been relatively quiet. As the Alpha female of the group, she merely nodded her encouragement to her posse of bullies. Until she grabbed the rock – a blurry vision Dana could barely catch from her faceplant on the ground – Dana hardly noted her. The pretty girl picking up the rock was the last thing she could remember before passing out completely.

***

“Hey, are you okay?”

His name was Mr. Sherwood. Turns out Glasses got help after all. Mr. Sherwood was tall and slender, with almost white-blond mop-top Beatles-wannabe hair. His eyes were very blue and looked kind. He wore glasses over an aristocratic narrow nose. As he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, Dana noted he was missing his pinky finger and half his ring finger on his right hand. Dana wondered what had happened to him. But she also pondered if she was, in fact, missing a digit or important appendage.

“Yeah, I think so…just dizzy,” mumbled Dana.

***

It turned out Mr. Sherwood lived just a few blocks from the Scully family home. He was a lawyer but also taught Sunday school at one of the local Catholic churches. He and Glasses – turns out her name was Isabelle – got Dana home safely, where she found her sister and two brothers snacking on Ritz crackers on the front veranda.

“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?” Billy asked, cracker crumbs flying out of his mouth.

“Your face is durrtty,” observed Charlie.

“Omigosh, Dana!” exclaimed Missy melodramatically. “I knew we should have waited … I had a feeling something was wrong. I should’ve listened to my instincts…look, my mood ring is totally black!”

Dana rolled her eyes. But even that seemed to hurt.

“Your sister is a bit of a hero, actually,” said Mr. Sherwood, as he introduced himself to the other Scully children. “She stood up to three pretty tough cookies at that school to help Isabelle here…”

Dana was taken to the hospital and suffered a mild concussion from the impact of the rock. As Dana's father was still on duty, Mr. Sherwood accompanied her mother to the emergency room, helping her wrangle the children and fill out forms. The doctor requested young Dana be kept in the hospital overnight for observation.

“Dana, you will have to report those girls to the principal … they will continue to terrorize students if they are not reprimanded,” Mr. Sherwood stood in the doorway of her hospital room, looking solemn.

Dana regarded the earnest man skeptically. “C'mon, that won't stop them. I don’t want to set myself up for years of torment. I think I should cut my losses, Mr. Sherwood,” Dana sniffed.

“Dana, do you know the definition of courage?” asked Mr. Sherwood, as he perched on her hospital bed. “It’s 'when you’re licked when you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what'.”

“To Kill a Mockingbird," Dana cites proudly, her brow arching high.

"Courageous and literary – and a little scrappy, like Scout. In fact, from now on, I am going to call you Scout – is that okay with you?”

Dana is not really sure it's okay. But this floppy-haired, gentle man just saved her bacon…perhaps it doesn’t really matter what he calls her.


	2. The Passion

“God, Mulder, you are going to make me come if you keep doing that.” Scully murmured. He was eager – overzealous, even – to please her but she didn’t want to truncate their lovemaking. He was working her breasts, circling her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers underneath her underwire bra, while sucking and licking between her legs. His long arms reached her breasts easily while he lapped at her but she was too excited…it would all be over for her soon and they only just got started.

They were still new lovers. What surprised Scully most was the passion. They loved each other for so long, but the best of friends don't always make the most compatible lovers. Even now, one month into their sexual relationship, it always started out a bit tentative. Mulder usually began just looking at her longingly, followed by a few tender kisses. The quick escalation always startled her. It was like Scully became another person...her inhibitions fell away immediately and she lost herself in their heat. Would it always feel like this, she wondered? There seemed to be no limit to their physical intimacy. The emotional trust that had been so carefully cultivated and solidified over the last seven years translated into complete freedom in the bedroom. Scully found herself doing and saying things during sex that she would never have dreamt of doing before, with any other partner.

And right now, as Mulder had moved from his relentless mouth-to-clit oral stimulation, to now penetrating her at a diagonal, with her on her side and he on his knees, fucking her vaginally from the rear side, the index finger of one hand rubbing her clit and the index finger of his other finger inching into her anus, she was overcome with passion, conscious only of the way her body felt. Which was damn great. Beads of sweat trickled down her chest and pooled between her breasts at the underwire. She pushed the cups aside and rubbed her own nipples, harder than Mulder had done so earlier, then pinched them viciously, turning to make eye contact with Mulder as she did so. For the first time, she felt like the true sexual woman she knew she always was. She resisted the urge to belt out "Natural Woman." Still, the lyrics played in her head, "You make me feel...you make me feel...you make me feel...like a nat-ur-al woman...."

She felt uncensored and dangerous, but at the same time 100 percent safe. She loved this man deeply and he clearly worshipped her.

Scully's touching herself was enough to put Mulder over the edge. He groaned loudly and said, "I'm coming, I'm coming, oh God, sorry, Scully!" He didn't need to apologize. She was right there with him, barely holding on, till she heard his guttural groans and started to feel the warmth shooting into her, wetness filling her. She was screaming, "Oh Mulder, fuck me, fuck me! Please keep fucking me!" Which he did, until her body stopped its spasms and she was only breathing heavily.

Mulder never made her feel embarrassed about the way she could lose herself. He simply held her close and whispered, "You are beautiful when you touch yourself. Thank you for doing that - for me. I love you so much." He planted a gentle kiss on her damp temple and spooned her from behind, his now flaccid penis rubbing against her moist skin, his arms engulfing her, suddenly making her feel physically small for the first time all evening.

Always sure to maintain their trademark politeness, Scully softly replied, "Thank you, Mulder. I love you too." She really wanted to fuck him again before he fell asleep. Would their passion always burn like this?


	3. Mr. Sherwood

Mr. Sherwood became almost like a surrogate uncle to Dana. The Scully family had joined the church where he taught catechism, and Dana liked his style. He was light on scripture but always had words of guidance that made sense to her. Sometimes he reminded her of Atticus but she couldn't bring herself to call him that - or even tell him that. It just seemed like it would be betray her Ahab/Starbuck dynamic with her father; even though she looked up to Mr. Sherwood, she had a father she adored. 

Mr. Sherwood's life was complicated. Even though Scully was now 12, he tried to shield her from his work outside the church - but she caught glimpses. As a public defender, he often took controversial cases that seemed unwinnable - at least by the newspapers' estimation. She tried to ask about them in a round-about way. 

"Mr. Sherwood, would you ever defend a murderer?" she asked one afternoon while sipping a lemonade in his backyard. Mr. Sherwood was hosting the Sunday school class and their families, giving them the opportunity to swim in his pool and hang out. Dana knew he did this to keep the kids out of trouble, but she appreciated it just the same. 

"Everyone deserves a fair trial, Scout," he responded simply. "That's the basis of our justice system." 

"How about if it was some guy that you knew was guilty? That was evil?" Dana pressed, adjusting the straps of her flowered one-piece and tossing her braids back.

"Do you believe there are people who are evil?" he asked. 

"Well, we learn about Heaven and Hell..." Dana pointed out. "If there aren't evil people, who is going to Hell?" 

"But are there evil people or is it possible that a person can be good though he has committed an evil act? The Catholic Church gives us all a chance to repent. Have you ever done anything you felt was an evil act?" Mr. Sherwood regarded her over his glasses, nudging them back onto his nose with his two and a half fingers.

Dana thought of the day a few years back when she killed a garter snake with a BB gun. She had been playing in the woods with her brothers and it all seemed so harmless - it was just a snake, right? Snakes are scary, ugly - she wanted to do it. 

But when the animal bled and struggled and flailed, she had felt evil for taking a life - she had no right. From that day on, she would never go near a snake. She knows they know what she did. 

"Yes, I did an evil thing, Mr. Sherwood," she confessed. She looked away, feeling the shame fill her again.

Mr. Sherwood cupped her chin and looked at her tenderly. "Scout, you are a good person. You have a kind heart. Don't ever forget that, okay? Forgiveness is a big part of Catholicism - including forgiving yourself for your mistakes. Everything has a reason, Scout. Everything on God's Earth." 

"Dana, c'mon! Let's go swimming!" Missy tugged her arm impatiently. She was already wet, creating a little puddle of water next to Dana's feet.

"Thank you, Mr. Sherwood," Scully said quickly as Missy led her towards the pool.


	4. Reverend Orison

Mulder does not want her on this case. His repeated attempts to convince her to go home have gone unheeded and he seems irritable. She knows he is concerned that Pfaster has escaped. He would be far more comfortable if he could just put her in a safe place until this is all over. Their sexual relationship has intensified the need to protect her. She catches him glancing over, checking in with her more than usual. She knows Pfaster brings up trauma for him as well ... memories of trying to find her, knowing Pfaster had gotten to her, visualizing with his vivid, expert profiler mind: Pfaster violating her dead body, having sex with her lifeless corpse, then cutting her hair and fingers off. They are both struggling with the case, trying to overcome their personal demons to catch this monster.

But the song...what does it remind her of? It is sensual and sexy, but every time she hears it, she feels like someone has kicked her hard in the gut.

"Someone to count on in a world of change

Here I am, stop where you're standin'

What you need is a lover, a man to take over

Oh girl, don't look any further..."

She is sure it was popular when she was in her early teens, but there is something else, something she can't quite put her finger on...somehow she feels it's a sign but what does it mean? Should she just concentrate on her new lover - Mulder - and not look any further into the case? But that's ridiculous ...it doesn't make any sense.

Scully takes a deep breath and prepares to question Reverend Orison. She knows the man is a murderer, as well as responsible for freeing the man who terrorized her. She doesn't want to listen to his fabricated religious rhetoric, but she has a job to do. She will keep her focus. She will be the partner Mulder needs her to be. She will get to the truth and she will find Donnie Pfaster and put him away for good.

She ignores Orison's attempts to get her inside her head, to tap into her psyche, pretending to know her merely because he's noted the cross around her neck.

Until he says it: "Scout." Now he has Scully's attention.

"Everything has a reason, Scout," Orison said, hypnotically. "Everything on God's Earth. Every moment of every day the Devil waits for but an instant. As it is, it has always been. The Devil's instant is our eternity."

Oh, my God, Scully thinks. She starts to tremble, sweat suddenly beading her brow. She remembers. The song, that day, Mr. Sherwood. How could Orison possibly know? What do the signs mean? What is her role here? And how can she possibly explain all this to Mulder?


	5. The Murder

Dana Scully is now 13 years old. It is a glorious summer day as the San Diego sun pours into the Scully family kitchen. Dana is sitting on a cushioned window seat fiddling with the radio tuner on her blue boombox. She finally settles on a station as the song, "Don't Look Any Further" begins playing. The song makes her think of Robbie, a cute boy with dimples from another military family that just started at her school. Butterflies race in Dana's belly. She looks down at her yellow bikini top and wonders if the little buds that reside under there will ever grow to be anything more. Like Margaret in her latest Judy Blume book, she juts out her chest and whispers, "I must, I must, I must improve my bust..."

Just then, her mother enters the room. Dana immediately stops her "exercises" and looks up. Her mother has been crying - oh, God, is Ahab okay? No, no...please God....

"Mom, what 's wrong?" Dana can feel the tears stinging her eyes, even though she doesn't know what's going on. Seeing her mother like this is upsetting enough.

"Oh Dana, I am so sorry...it's Mr. Sherwood. He's been killed." She embraces Dana and presses her close.

NO, Dana screams in her head. This can't be right. Mr. Sherwood, with his goofy blond hair and kind words. Mr. Sherwood, who has contributed to her college fund every year since she moved here because he knows she'll do something special in the world some day. Mr. Sherwood, who took her to the hospital after a bully struck her with a rock so hard she passed out. Mr. Sherwood, who ran out of his house in the middle of his dinner to give her Band-Aids after she wiped out on her bike in front of his house. Mr. Sherwood, who always patiently answered her questions when others tired of her endless curiosity.

Mr. Sherwood, who called her Scout.

He was murdered - stabbed 17 times in the throat and chest in his own front yard by a religious fanatic that took issue with his choice to defend an openly gay doctor for his wrongful dismissal from a prominent hospital. Courage. Fight the fight, see it through. Even when you know you've lost. He was true to his word.

He bled to death on his front lawn before police and paramedics even arrived on the scene.

As Mrs. Scully tried to comfort Dana, a shiver ran down the young girl's spine as a realization dawned on her. It was something she knew with absolute certainty, with every fibre of her being. Evil did exist on Earth. She shuddered. Would it find her some day? She suddenly felt afraid and vulnerable. For the first time in her life, she felt there was darkness out there that even her parents - even the formidable Ahab - couldn't protect her from. Dana Scully would never be the same.


	6. The After

Scully is curled up on Mulder's couch under a throw blanket. Mulder is holding her close, providing the quiet comfort he knows she needs right now. She's changed into one of Mulder's T-shirts, deciding just to toss the pyjamas she was wearing into the trash. Her lip is throbbing and her eye is swollen, but she's alive.

She knows she and Mulder will never really agree regarding faith and God. She believes in God's hand on Earth; he believes He "reads the box scores." She tries not to shut down on him but it's hard for her to open up about killing Pfaster.

Her thoughts swirl like a tornado in her head. Was Orison right? Was the Devil laying in wait for her, toying with her, only to use her as an instrument of murder? Isn't that the greatest victory for the Devil - enticing good people to do evil things? Was that what Mr. Sherwood was trying to explain to her? Did she fail the test?

Mr. Sherwood. Would he ever have been able to make sense of what she did? He never believed that people were evil; but Scully did. She saw evil in Pfaster, she was sure of it.

Mr. Sherwood also believed in forgiveness. Perhaps hearing the song wasn't about telling her to back away; perhaps it wasn't about the song lyrics at all. Maybe, just maybe, God wanted her to remember Mr. Sherwood and his belief in self forgiveness.

_"Scout, you are a good person. You have a kind heart. Don't ever forget that, okay?"_

Scully closed her eyes. I won't forget, Mr. Sherwood.


End file.
